Unspoken Agreement
by BreakingBadFanatic21
Summary: When Mike arrives at the prim Gustavo Fring's home he soon realizes that Gus has more on his mind than dinner and a few drinks. Gus proves to be too hot to handle, to the laid back Mike's dismay. Will Gus prove to be irresistible, or unable to be refused?


(I type this story on my ipad and I was too lazy to email it to myself and import it to my computer and to this site. So please bear with the lack of spaces and such. Let me know what you guys think of this story!)

Chapter 1

Mike arrived at Gus Fring's home and let himself in. The lovely aroma of chicken, rice and several spices hit Mike's nose. That was one of Gus's favorite dishes to make. He had loved to cook, mostly to see the pleased looks on people's faces as they ate his delicious food.

Mike closed the door discreetly as he entered, as if watching out for prying eyes. He turned around, seeing Gus at the stove with his back turned.

"Mike," Gus said, whirling around to see his bodyguard standing dutifully at the door. He smiled at his formality. "No need to be so formal with me," He said, a hint of sweetness in his voice. "We're friends, you should know that by now."

A faint smile appeared on Mike's face as he made his way to the kitchen. "So what did you need, boss?" He inquired, standing beside him.

Gus chuckled. "Must I always need something?"

"No, but usually you don't call me here to socialize." Mike replied gruffly, crossing his arms.

"You were always so perceptive, Mike," Gus said, leaning against the counter. "I suppose you are right," He mused, taking off his white apron. Underneath, he was dressed quite casually, in a red button down dress shirt and gray slacks, he was barefoot. "I wanted to invite you to dinner." He said with a smile.

"Oh?" Mike inquired, looking in the oven. "It smells great, the scent hit me immediately when I walked in."

Gus smiled. "Well I hope you like it."

"Thanks, boss. I'm sure I will."

"Call me Gus, no one is around," He said, gesturing his hand to the table. "Have a seat and relax, this isn't business." He assured.

"Okay Gus," Mike said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. He looked across the table and saw a bottle of whiskey, his favorite brand too. "This is very thoughtful," He said, eying the bottle. "May I?"

"Of course, I bought it just for you." Gus said as he opened the oven and turned off the stove.

Mike stood up, peeling off his jacket and walking towards the bar, retrieving a glass. "Would you like one?"

"No," Gus said, setting the plates of food on the table. "I have a daiquiri in the fridge."

"Daiquiri, huh?" Mike said as he made his way back to the table, setting the glass down.

"How do i put this?" Gus wondered, putting his hands on his hips. "I like fruity drinks." He said awkwardly.

"Ah, you like sweet things," Mike mused with a half-smile. "I never knew that about you."

"You have a lot to learn about me then, Mike." Gus walked over to the fridge and retrieved his daiquiri, then sitting it near his place mat.

Mike walked over to the sink and washed his hands. Gus watched every movement and was enamored by Mike's mysterious presence. He had known him for a while now but he never knew much about his bodyguard; other than that he used to be a cop.

He was tall and very strong for a man his age, always reliable and steadfast with his loyalty to him. He was serious most of the time but had an unforgettable smile. Gus also noticed his big hands, strong arms, even the small nick on his right ear.

After drying off his hands, Mike made his way back to the table.

"So, what does the mysterious Mike Ehrmantraut do in his spare time?" Gus asked, casually drinking his daiquiri.

"Well, I figured work is separate from personal life." Mike murmured, pouring some whiskey into the small, ice-less glass.

"This isn't work, Mike..." Gus assured, running his bare foot up Mike's leg.

Mike's leg twitched and his jaw tendered. He sighed, then drinking the whole glass of whiskey. "Well what is it then, Gus?"

"Whiskey burns when it goes down, doesn't it?"

"Yes, but it's needed right now." Mike replied, rubbing the top of his head in frustration. He again reached for the bottle, pouring more in his glass; and like clockwork he downed another glass of warm whiskey.

What the hell was wrong with Gus? Has he gone half-foolish? Maybe it's the daiquiri. It just had to be the daiquiri. No, he barely made a dent in it. What is with this man? Mike was becoming a bit unnerved and nothing shook him. However, this was Gustavo Fring, the man that had his life and livelihood in his hands.

"You know, I like daiquiris because they are sweet...but a little tart," He removed his glasses. " The perfect taste." He said, licking his lips.

Mike flinched at that gesture. "Stop changing the subject," He demanded, pouring more whiskey into the glass. "You invited me here to get drunk with you?"

Gus laughed. "No, just to relax."

If Gus didn't want him drunk, that whole approach wasn't working. The more uncomfortable Gus made him, the more he wanted to feel the sting of whiskey down his throat. "So this isn't work? I don't have a mission?"

"No." Gus said, taking another sip of his drink.

"Well why invite me over to relax after all this time?," Mike inquired, his curiosity getting the best of him. "What is this?!"

"Whatever you want it to be." Gus replied, his voice full of allure.


End file.
